Extraterrestrial
by proosh
Summary: Gilbert is trying to get work done, and Alfred is deliberately being annoying. ((PruAme PWP, and an ode to the difficulties to getting off in a vacuum. Connected with Earthborn, but kind of as an AU of it))


Hey guys! Sorry for the lack of updates, think of this as a reassurance that I am still writing Earthborn. There are bits in here that will be explained in the next chapter, but they're relatively minor. This should be considered a "what-if", rather than a companion to the fic. I had written this a while ago, but never got around to uploading it here, sorry about that.

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"Alfred," Gilbert said, not looking up from the machinery he was working on. In the inky blackness of Alpha-A1, he couldn't afford to look away, due to the fact he was handling rather dangerous electronics and his only source of light was the one mounted on his helmet. Out of his peripheral vision, he could see the light of Alfred's own helmet moving to look at him, washing him with bright whiteness.

"'Sup?" God, he was far too casual for business. They were a billion light years away from anything resembling home, not to mention dealing with literal alien technology. The surveyors had unearthed a massive hunk of metal out in the 'desert', which had proved to be hollow. They still were not entirely sure what exactly the metal was, nor what the purpose of it was, so the high command had decided to send the two people that couldn't die to investigate.

"Can you connect the blue wire to the red one? I think that'll give power to... Whatever this is." There was a silence over the radio, and the light shining upon him trembled as Alfred thought it over. What was there to think about? Connect the wires, hope they don't die. It was really as simple as that.

Gilbert could not see Alfred's face, but he could feel the shit-eating grin as he replied.

"Come over and make me." The light trembled as a laugh bubbled through the radio, echoing in the albino's helmet tauntingly.

"Has space-sickness taken you? Connect the wires!" His voice rose in annoyance and he turned his head to deliberately blare his light at Alfred's face, illuminating the other's helmet and spacesuit. Opaque blackness made up the front visor, and glossy blackness of the form-fitting suit reflected the artificial light.

He could hear Alfred's smirk get larger as the other figure leaned back and crossed his arms. "You heard me. Make me." Gilbert could feel a growl developing in his throat, the ancient urge to beat the living hell out of his disobedient recruits rose in his chest.

Carefully setting the electronics down and avoiding electrocuting himself, the albino rose to his full height and Alfred mirrored him, puffing out his chest and holding his head high. He stepped towards the blond with deliberate meaning, deliberate control and deliberate dominance. They were both empires, with mighty fleets and generals, but Gilbert was the elder, Gilbert was the one that had even allowed the expedition to go through.

He was the one with the power here.

Alfred stepped forward until they were almost chest-to-chest, and Gilbert was reminded that the upstart was easily as tall as himself, if not taller. Luckily, the magnetic elements lining the underside of his boots gave him an extra inch or so of height. There would be no towering here.

"And what do you think you're doing?" He rose a hand to press a button at the side of his helmet, the opaque of his helmet visor flitting back so Alfred could see his face. Before the other started to speak, he cleared up his own visor, revealing just what Gilbert thought he was going to see: A shit-eating grin worthy of a child who knew he had done something naughty.

"Pissing you off. Anyone ever tell you your ears go red when you're flustered? I think it's cute." The blond actually batted his eyelashes. The little prick.

"A-Are you hitting on me, Jones? You are aware we're in a very serious operation, yes?" There was a hand sliding onto his hip and he was very close to punching his partner in arms. This was unacceptable, and the thought must had registered on his face because Alfred's own twisted into a pout.

"I've been hitting on you for several hundred years," came the needy whine, the faint feeling of a thumb tracing along his hip-bone. "And it's not like anyone has to know, right? We can... Do what we need to, and then go back to the sexual tension."

He considered this for a moment. It wasn't that Alfred was an unattractive man. He was a very attractive man. Nations didn't really have a sexuality that could be described or comprehended by human minds, so it wasn't the 'man' thing that was bothering him. Nations were really an amalgamation of their people: Man, woman, gay, straight, everything in between. To narrow down their sexualities to such simple terms would be both inaccurate and insulting.

Gilbert exhaled, briefly fogging up his visor before the automated atmospheric controls kicked in to remove the additional moisture. "Fine," he half-growled, his hands finding Alfred's hips and pulling them against his own. It would be difficult, he immediately recognised, due to the lack of atmosphere and the extreme cold of the planet. They would have to be smart about this.

"Move against me," the albino urged, sliding his leg between Alfred's legs and was soon rewarded with a mirroring action, along with hands gripping at his shoulders. Slowly, they started to move, the magnets in Gilbert's boots automatically attaching to the metal flooring to give him leverage to slowly rock into the other, their suits rubbing against each other to create rather interesting noises. "C'mon, put your back into it," he continued, clenching his jaw as Alfred let out a rather long groan.

"H-Hang on, lemme-" The younger man – perhaps that was what was annoying him, but Alfred was a man now, right? He was no longer the youngest of superpowers. – disentangled himself and soon dropped to his knees, using his hands to part Gilbert's legs and trail up the insides of his thighs. God Gilbert wished they weren't in a vacuum, he could see the way Alfred's jaw was working as he brushed his fingers across where his legs met his body, the hardness that was developing at his groin, hidden by thick layers of insulation.

Some dark part of the albino wanted to see that pretty jaw stretched around his cock, but that would have to wait until later.

"C'mon, I know you got electronics in that helmet," he purred lowly, a gloved hand finding itself scrabbling at the top of Alfred's helmet for grip, trying to push his hips against the visor. There was a strangled noise from across the radio and the small noise of a flip of a switch. Immediately it happened, vibrating against his cock and sending shudders right up his spine.

Gilbert moaned openly, knees shaking as he tried to press closer, closer and into that horrible, wonderful feeling of electricity shooting through his spine, and he could see Alfred palming himself through his suit.

"God, you want this, don't you? Want me to fuck you?" He didn't know why the words were slipping from his lips, but he kept the tremble out of his voice with a great deal of control. "You want to cum inside your suit? Work for it, c'mon," he hissed lowly, breath hitching as the vibration pulsed, as more moans filtered in over the radio.

"Gilbert," came the moaned hiss, Alfred kneading at the albino's undercarriage with a degree of skill that both concerned and turned him on to a truly ridiculous degree, "I've wanted your cock for centuries, you don't understand–" His voice through the radio was distorted and Gilbert could see his visor fogging up. He could also see the younger bucking his hips, desperate to get release.

The albino felt the familiar feeling bubbling in his belly, the curl of his toes in his boots, the fact that he could barely breath. Alfred was not helping, the incessant buzzing and vibrating making it increasingly hard to think, to process anything besides the jitters and lightning shooting through his bones.

He didn't think, the fire coursing through him as he hauled Alfred to his feet and immediately moved forward, slamming him with a soft [i]thud[/i] into the nearest wall, hand gripping the bulge of his dick viscously and brutally grinding against him. Hands scrabbled at his back, desperate moans sounded through the radio.

Gilbert wasn't acting on any legitimate thought process as he pulled at his helmet, and Alfred's the visors sliding shut and his face immediately assaulted with the freezing cold– But that didn't matter as he slammed his lips against Alfred's, pressing as close as possible and embracing the warmth and relishing the needy, too-breathy kisses that were returned to him. Tongues and lips danced as bodies ground against each other, sending each other higher and higher into the grip of the fires of lust.

He couldn't die, but he could feel the cold, the terrible freezing that contrasted so wonderfully against the heat in his groin, against the heat in his head and arms– Alfred arched and a silent moan slipped from his lips as he shuddered. It was only a few seconds after that the cold took Gilbert and twisted and he let precious air escape from his lungs as everything went white-black and the tightness in his belly snapped and he was aware of thick wetness in his suit–

Blinking and shuddering, he pulled back and flipped his visor back on, immediately moving to assist Alfred's with his.

Sweet, sweet oxygen, like sugar on his tired tongue, the shudders shooting through his muscles. Alfred was slumped against the wall, but there was the soft noises of giggling coming through the radio.

"S-Shit, y-you're a kinky motherfucker ain't you?" The voice was weak and unsteady as Gilbert made his way over, squatting before him, wearing his signature smirk. He hadn't bothered to turn his visor opaque. It would be cruel to do that immediately after rutting, right?

"A bit. Are you okay? I'm sorry, I should have asked before..." Alfred gave him a glare, but it probably wasn't as intense as it could be. He liked that about the other empire; that he wasn't afraid to demonstrate when he was less than happy with something.

"Yeah. You're still a dick, thou–" He was interrupted by an abrupt beeping that resounded through their helmets.

Not a second later, a familiar voice rang through, audibly trying to keep composure as the operator spoke. "Sirs? Are you two done with your... Inspection? Back at Landing we've finished the soil analysis, and we think you two should see it." There was a long silence.

"And, sirs? Remember that if you two need, uh, privacy at any time, there are inbuilt systems in your suits to mute audio inputs."


End file.
